


got a feeling that i can't let go.

by riskbreakered



Category: Hawkeye (Comics)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 05:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13920051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riskbreakered/pseuds/riskbreakered
Summary: A frozen pizza and a ride home.





	got a feeling that i can't let go.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alithea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alithea/gifts).



Kate wasn't going to say that they were falling into a routine. Maybe instead it was just a nice string of luck, a happy coincidence. She leaned the side of her face into the cool, soothing surface of the frozen pizza box and sighed.

"Thanks again for the ride, Detective." She reached down for the car seat controls, pulling the backrest as low at it could go.

Rivera held back a sigh. "Considering you made out tonight with only a few bruises and zero concussions, I think you earned the favor."

If Kate wasn't splayed over the seat like a tenderized purple starfish, she might have tried to look more offended. When Rivera returned to the station, she had found Kate dropped at her desk like a lost kitten -- the looks from the other officers at the station made it clear whose responsibility she had become.

But whatever adrenaline kick Hawkeye had earlier had left, leaving her only enough energy for a heavier slouch. " _Only_? Did you read the crime report? I think I've earned at least -- hey, your air conditioner works, right?"

She waved her hand. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't mess with radio and we're square."

"Five by five, five-oh."

Rivera tried not to groan. The matter of personal luck certainly played a factor.

*

The detective leaned against the hood of her car, arms crossed. 

"Sooo, about this pizza..."

"My dinner, that you've had on loan to your face all evening -- you mean _that_ pizza, Bishop?"

"Right, well maybe we've grown a little attached on the ride over." Kate held hesitantly onto the box, her eyes glued to the cover. Deep dish crust, extra cheese. Piles of pepperoni and oodles of grease. 

"And with all that robbery-halting you managed earlier, you didn't get the chance for dinner, right?"

"Exactly!"

Rivera pinched the bridge of her nose. "Go on then."

"Ugh, you're the best," Kate said in relief. 

Expecting the usual finger guns of approval, she was surprised when Kate took a hold of her arm and nudged her toward the apartment door. 

*

The pizza in question was baked, divided, devoured. 

A bottle of whiskey materialized, left by some mysterious "P.I. mentor" Kate mentioned over a mouthful of gooey mozzarella, and so that too was portioned off between them.

Things were, Rivera had to eventually admit, kind of nice. Not that they were _friends_ so to speak, but after a very long day at work and the usual impossible knots of L.A. traffic, she needed the time to unwind.

Kate, punch-drunk with a coffee mug of Jim Bean, leaned pleasantly against her shoulder. Heck, things were almost comfortable.

*

Many hours later, Detective Rivera awoke to the familiar chirp of her ringtone emanating from somewhere on the floor. Instincts before awareness, she shuffled out of bed to find her pants. 

And in her defense, she hadn't had whiskey in a long time. And it was still early morning, so who blamed her, crouching over her pile of clothes in the dark, if she took forever to realize whose bedroom she had slept in.

Kate Bishop, sleeping like a log, hadn't even stirred.

Like a crime scene, the details from the night before slowly started to piece together before her. The discarded pizza crust, the open bottle. A purple vigilante costume with holes on the hips for no discernable reason, really, now dangling from bed post.

_("She drives me crazy. But she also gets under your skin, you know?")_

Rivera snapped out of her realization stupor. When she moved around to quietly open the bedroom door Lucky, Kate's dog, found his opportunity and came shuffling in. 

She cringed.

But not even the dog climbing merrily up to take her place on the empty space of bed made Kate wake up -- so the detective took her solitary walk of shame when she had the chance.

Whatever situation she'd just entangled herself in, there'd be time to examine it later. Preferably over a hell of a lot of coffee.


End file.
